It’s difficult to take the operators on the other end of a customer service call seriously when between the two, three, sometimes four outsourced representatives, are tunes reminiscent of late-night shows that funded sub-par acting and weak screenwriting with the savings from utilizing fewer props – like wardrobes, (id est, shows that are the etymology of Cinemax’s nickname).
I was on hold with Sprint yesterday, four separate times, and during each forty-second separation, I … wait. I think I just figured it out.
They use, (or, I suppose “re-use”), those particular sounds in order to reduce the pressure upon releasing the stress, anger and frustration they know you are bottling up.
Psssshhhhhhhh and repeat
It makes sense…The ha-ha hold music misleads our minds in a direction opposite the realization that they are becoming less and less helpful (and coherent), so when (insert name I cannot pronounce) picks up the transferred call, I don’t yell.
I, in a suppressed and explicative-light diatribe, explain that my service was supposed to be discontinued two months ago and I’m being charged for a phone that I returned to them. They, (the subject of this post) repress our rage.
Probably not healthy, but neither is (insert something unhealthy).
